


The Picture of Will Graham

by sp00ns



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 15:18:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6710122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sp00ns/pseuds/sp00ns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Graham approached the looming, darkened hallway with a longing for something... violent. Seeing purple behind his eyelids as he closed them, it slowly faded away into red. Adrenaline shot through his veins, ripping through him like a hunger predator threatening to devour his heart whole. The stag stood in front of him, this monster that quietly followed Will everywhere. It's breathing was uneven and suddenly it charged and pieced him in the torso, lifting him up like a trophy kill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Picture of Will Graham

**Author's Note:**

> I have edited this more for clarity and all that good stuff, enjoy.

Will Graham approached the looming, darkened hallway with a longing for something... violent. Seeing purple behind his eyelids as he closed them, it slowly faded away into red. Adrenaline shot through his veins, ripping through him like a hunger predator threatening to devour his heart whole. The stag stood in front of him, this monster that quietly followed Will everywhere. It's breathing was uneven and suddenly it charged and pieced him in the torso, lifting him up like a trophy kill.

Clutching his chest, Will woke up in his own bed. Blue sheets lay thrown haphazardly on the floor like a restless sea. Attempting to catch his breath he risked a glance at the alarm clock. 4:30 am. This just confirms his waking pattern was getting earlier by the day. Rolling over, he sighed and tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes. His class schedule for the college was filled today but he felt like he could convince the superintendent to let him take off a day or two, she let him know last night personally that she was concerned for his well being as of late. Surely, she of all people would understand. Even if she didn't, Alana would come to his aid. Thank God for Alana, ...or not. It physically pained Will to think about what could've been, what he missed out on with this women. This women whose pity he could feel in his bones. Will dragged himself out of bed with a groan, stretching as much as he could in his tiny room. The house stood in a remote section of Baltimore out in the country, just the way Will liked it. He gazed out of his front window at the snow that would soon glisten as the sun made it's way higher into the murky gray sky. He felt like melting away and leaving the world to deal with it's own wretched messes. 

Will's phone gave a shrill ring and he knew who was calling before he even picked up the phone. He hesitated before pressing the accept button, it occurred to him that if he placated Jack, maybe the self-entitled bastard wouldn't call him at 4:45 in the morning. Not that it matter since Will was already wide awake but it's the thought that counts. "What do you want, Jack?" Will demanded gruffly, sleep giving his voice jagged edges. "Someone woke up on the wrong damn side of the bed..." Jack attempted a neutral tone. "Look, Jack," Will paced around the room as his head filled with a dizzy annoyance. "I really don't have time for any bullshit today, OK? I'm not in the mood." Will gritted his teeth as he awaited a berating response from his boss. There was a long silence before Jack spoke in a calm and collected manner, "Alana told me to stop bringing you to the crime scenes for a while because she's worried about you," Will scoffed, "Who isn't worried about me freaking out...? I'm tired of being treated like I'm insane." 

Will's hand lingered over the whiskey from last night, stopping at nearly the last second. "Hear me out, Will, you know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't absolutely necessary, but we have a situation..." Will could hear the caution radiating from Jack's voice, as if he were afraid to break or upset him further. "...Alright... fine. I'll be down there as soon as I can. What exactly is the situation, Jack?" Will stumbled around, picking whatever wasn't horribly dirty off the floor and throwing it on. "They discovered a body over in the West Baltimore Library. The blood was drained and one of the legs was missing." Will stopped, "What in the hell does that have to do with us, Jack? We're fucking FBI." Jack slowly explained, "Here's the catch, the body was embalmed and set up like a doll. Not only that, but there's a painting here, of all things. We did an analysis on the canvas and materials to scan for DNA. Turns out the canvas was made out of human skin but curiously enough, it's not victim's. And the paint? Well, if you had to guess, where do you think the blood went?" 

Will sharply inhaled. Could it be... the Chesapeake Ripper? They had lost a lead on him a few months back and there had been silence ever since. The stag that haunted Will's dreams was just a sad reminder of the emptiness that had been left behind by the dark. "Below the first layer is crushed bone which is where at least part of the leg went." Jack continued. Slipping on his drab military jacket before he left the house, Will huffed, "I'll be there as soon as I can. Just... please give the team there a heads up, I wouldn't want to be sent to the asylum just yet, I'm saving my vacation time." And he hung up without receiving an answer. As he crawled into his small car starting on the long journey from his home, Will couldn't stop himself from thinking about what it might mean, if it was indeed from the Ripper. What was the end game? This couldn't be it, could it? He was so much more... there was definitely more to this story, this could not be the great finale Will had been promised. At this point, Will was gone from the present, he was lost in his mind. 

Back when Will had been more involved with the FBI and his studies, there was one case that stuck to him like flypaper. He had arrived to the college a bit earlier than usual in hopes to catch up on his mountains of paperwork and awful essays but lo and behold, a pile of various body parts had been gracefully arranged into a gruesome bouquet, this had sent Will straight to the bathroom to promptly throw up. He stayed there for a while until the acrid taste in his mouth faded and immediately called Jack. He was not disgusted by the display itself but by the fact he related so well to the maker, Will was able to identify and see the beauty in the horror and that's what disturbed him so. Hands and arms crossing to create synergy and balance with the legs which stuck up in certain degrees to reach upwards, a lot of thought had been put into this... gift, for that is what it was. This was not even the most violent or disgusting crime he had seen but something had struck a chord, everything was arranged in an extremely tedious manner, down to the last detail. Will got the feeling that it was distinctly left for him; it was after this incident that he no longer tried to arrive early to his own classes. In fact, after this, he began showing up less and less, and drinking more and more. 

Will fought the urge to send drive his old car over a bridge and call it a day but this case intrigued him more than he'd like to admit. The FBI mostly dealt with serial killers and the like, and Will was called upon as a guest investigator of sorts. He had a gift with empathy that allowed him to see into the mind of killers, becoming them. Scenery passed by the windows in a purple haze, unfocused and far away like an oil painting left too long in the sun. Suddenly, he pulled into the large parking lot filled with police and FBI personnel alike. Will had been so far into his mind that he hardly noticed the monotonous drive go by. He parked and closed his eyes, bracing himself for the day to come, that is until Jack loudly knocked on the window. 

Jack took him to the empty common room of the library where a grotesque scene awaited the two. The window shone a spotlight onto the center, lighting up the face of a college age girl dressed in a Victorian style outfit, gingerly placed into a pose that mimicked the painting. Her face placid and unconcerned, as if she could've been listening to a lecture from her professor or out gazing at the park during twilight, thinking about the distant future. The girl's leg had been replaced with a wooden leg carved in a most delicate design. His design. A painting of a women in all black was the center masterpiece. Majestic brushstrokes paired with an obvious experience made it illuminating, almost as if the artist had painted it a thousand times over and over in preparation for this moment. Will's breath hitched, and his hands trembled. This was too thoughtful to not be the Ripper, but Will sensed a different energy to this project.


End file.
